


Fresh Start

by Aithilin



Series: First Meetings [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friendship Rivalry, M/M, suggested past racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 22:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10672392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Libertus was used to the Lucians by now. Used to the way they seemed to feel entitled to everything under the sun. He just expected their prince to be leading that by example.





	Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally meant as a fill for an ask over at my [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/). It just seemed to fit this little "First Meetings" 'verse too.

They had to interact at some point. It was inevitable. Nyx wouldn’t always be around to be the buffer between them, and sooner or later, Libertus would actually need to speak to Noct on his own. He would need to do more than just politely ignore the prince, and the way Nyx looked at the kid— the way Nyx seemed to keep a constant touch and smile just for Noct. 

It’s not that Libertus was _jealous_ really. Not in that he wanted what Nyx had. He didn’t _want_ Noctis— he’d actually be very happy if the prince fucked off back to the tower and stayed where he was supposed to. But he wanted _Nyx_. He wanted his friend back, his brother. And this was just one last bit of Galahd the Lucians were taking from him. One last little bit of home the Lucians would water down and repackage; they already had Nyx branded as this Hero of the Kingsglaive, doing stupid shit he’d never do back home. Nyx had more sense back home. 

“Everything okay?” Noctis was sitting in the Kingsglaive lobby like he owned the place— he technically did, Libertus supposed. Waiting for Nyx to finish his debriefing, to finish the wind down from the day and head out. 

There were dinner plans in place— Crowe’s place tonight— unless the prince decided that he wanted to take Nyx elsewhere. Unless the prince decided that it wasn’t good enough, or to his tastes. 

“Just fine, your highness,” Libertus stayed standing where he was. He wasn’t on duty, he wasn’t in uniform. But he wasn’t required to speak to the kid if that was the case. He was only standing around because Nyx was taking his sweet time. 

To his merit, Noctis didn’t say anything as he leaned forward in the seat, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as he waited. Libertus knew that looking at the kid was just inviting trouble, but to be fair, the kid was looking at him first. And from his vantage point, he could see the little braids tied into Noct’s hair, the familiar little beads catching the light and the Ulric-purple cord barely hidden by the black hair. 

He tried to keep his tone light, relaxed. To not let on that he was grinding his teeth and every muscle in his body was ready to fix that travesty right now. Right here. Before Nyx was there to try to talk him out of it. “You know what those braids mean, your highness?”

He was ready for the prince’s boredom— that bland look he gave everyone he wasn’t familiar with. He was ready for the prince’s haughtiness— the Lucian ‘right to own’ that everyone in this damned city seemed to have, and that the prince should have in spades. 

He wasn’t prepared for the way Noct’s hand moved to the little braids— too small to really notice, unless you were familiar with them, or spent a lifetime looking for them. Libertus wasn’t prepared for the prince’s soft smile as he felt for the beads, traced the cord. 

“Of course I do, Libertus,” He smiled, and Libertus wanted to hate him. 

“So you know they’re important, and you’re wearing them anyway?”

“Yes,” he watched Noctis stiffen— not sit up, but shift, tense, ready to move if needed. Libertus had seen that sort of easy preparation before— Nyx was like that, ready to fight without looking like it to an outsider. To an unreasonable aggressor. “Because they’re important, I’m wearing them. They’re Nyx’s.”

“They’re Galahdian, not yours.”

“I’m his.”

That stopped Libertus for a moment. He new that sort of talk— that sort of easy claim made between other Galahdians, other of his people. He had grown up seeing it, watching that kind of claim. Knowing those kinds of words. “You have no right to talk like that, your highness. It isn’t a game.”

“I never said it was,” He hadn’t seen that cold look before, not on Noct. Not where any of the Glaives were concerned before. “I understand that it’s your culture, Libertus. It’s Nyx’s culture too. I’m not playing with it.”

“And just what do you know about it?” He didn’t want to let this go. He didn’t want this to be just another thing the Lucians claimed for themselves, another thing to be abandoned when they were done with it. If anything happened, Noct would never take out those braids, if Nyx saw sense and moved on, the prince would always have those braids, at least that’s how it worked in Galahd. A living history. 

“I know what Nyx has told me. Or do you think he would take something like this lightly?”

Libertus knew better than that, knew that Nyx wouldn’t just give up everything about his home that way. He took a deep breath and crossed his arms. No matter how much he wanted to accuse the prince— to bait and dig and drive that wedge between them further— he had known Nyx since they were children. He had known Nyx had always talked about being careful, cautious with these things. None of his past lovers had worn those braids before. He was almost surprised by the way Noctis stood, still clearly expecting an answer. 

He huffed; “I trust Nyx, not you.”

“Fair enough. You don’t know me.”

It took a moment to realise that admission from the prince, that clear acceptance of the situation. For a moment, Libertus didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know what to make of the situation now. He was used to Lucians just expecting him to take their word for everything— to trust them as if they had already earned it. He expected their prince to lead that example. He noticed the wry look the prince was giving him only after the kid was standing in front of him, offering his hand. 

“So let’s start fresh;” Noct said, hand between them. “Nice to meet you, I’m Noctis.”

He matched the wry look, but shook the prince’s hand. “Libertus.”

“How long have you known Nyx?”

“All my life, your highness.”

“Then you know all his embarrassing secrets.”

“That I do.”

“Care to share any?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nyx grumbled as he stepped out to the lobby, uniform jacket slung over a shoulder. “No. Libs, you tell him nothing. Not a thing. Ever.”

Libertus chuckled at that, smiled even as Nyx draped an arm around Noct’s shoulder, pulled the younger man close to him in an easy gesture.

A fresh start… He could try that. Nyx was clearly happy. And the kid wasn’t stupid, at least. He could try a new start with the kid. At least if the kid was going to try with him.


End file.
